


I Do

by Mimsys



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Marriage, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:29:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4892965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimsys/pseuds/Mimsys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote this for demonsgold  bc he asked for Willow/Natt and I have zero impulse control</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Do

Her dress is the same silvery white as her mist even though there is actual lace and fabric woven into it for once; long hair is bound up in intricate twists and then let loose to cascade down her back like a mercury waterfall. Her smile is alive, so alive, for someone who has been dead so long. “Natt.” Willow murmurs his name and it’s reverent, almost a prayer, and as light and pure as the delicate clink of her high heels against the tile. Her shoes are mist, providing better cushioning than real shoes since she’s unused to them after her time in the woods, and she floats slightly off the ground because of it. Because of her joy, as well, but that goes without saying.

Natt leads her into the dance, cupping the small of her back with one hand and holding her close; his suit is as dark as a fearling and sparkles with tiny flecks of mist that look like gems woven into the fabric, and she looks like the moon against the canvas of the night sky when in his arms. Natt would laugh later and say that she looked too pure to be holding a wedding amongst fearlings and the darkest sprites known (and unknown) to humankind.

Pitch had officiated the wedding, managing for once to keep a fear-inspiring tone out of his voice as his two wards bonded themselves for all of life and death. Around them, spirits cheered and lifted glasses bubbly with champagne. Even Sandy had come and had been given safe passage, watching silently from the corner and creating a quick flash of golden applause at the union. It would temper Pitch, the Guardians had hoped, but Sandy hadn’t come for that. He’d seen how the nightmares had changed under Willow’s influence, still dark and terrifying and rich to Pitch and his apprentice but lined with lessons that would keep the children safe.

He glided over to the happy couple after the first dance had finished and the spirits had broken into pairs, carrying a small golden box in his hands. He held it out to Willow, not knowing how Natt’s own sand would react to the dreamsand box, and then nodded for her to open it. The wisp paused, glancing at her new husband - and how the words still sent a thrill through her - before letting her mist slide between the folds of sand to part them. Once the sand had faded away and joined again with the Guardian before them, a pair of cuffs was left in Willow’s pale hands. The smaller, obviously meant for Willow, was silver and marked with a crescent moon in the center and vines on both sides stretching around the band; the larger was gold and had the same moon but swirls of black dust and silver mist stretching around the edges.

“The moon?” Willow asked, looking at the beautiful gifts and feeling a pang of hurt at the insult, the reminder of the pawn the Man in the Moon had meant her to be, although she had no right to expect the Guardian to treat her well when she was under the protection of Pitch.

A few images flashed over Sandy’s head in quick procession: the moon, a feminine figure running down a path, collapsing into Pitch’s arms (and how strange he looked depicted in golden sand), the same feminine figure being held between Pitch and Natt in a protective embrace, and then her now, hands clasped with her fearling lover.

“Yes.” She allowed, sliding the silver band onto her wrist; Pitch would not have allowed any outside magic into his domain and especially not from the Sandman. “It did lead me to them.” Willow held the golden band out to Natt, who slid his on as well. “Thank you, Sanderson.” She dipped her head, pressing a kiss to the shimmering hair that reminded her so much of Natt’s. “Your gifts are always a guiding light.” She added, glancing over at her husband, and then smiled as she pulled away. More shapes danced over Sandy’s head, showing Willow coaxing children out of the forest towards safety. “I’m not Guardian material, Sandy, but I appreciate the comparison. Now if you’ll excuse me-”

“I’d like to dance again with my wispling.” Natt interjected, a playful smile on his lips. “And Pitch doesn’t look pleased with how long we’ve been talking to you. Another time, Sandy.” The rounder man nodded, wandering off with his cheery, distant smile on his lips. “Would you like another dance, Willow?”

His wife turned towards him, the long sleeves of her gown brushing against his fingertips as she took his hand in his. “What’s my line again?” She asked, twinkling laugh on her lips. “ _I do_.”


End file.
